


Under the Wings of the Red Angel

by thefallenmutineer



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Episode: s01e04 The Butcher's Knife Cares Not for the Lamb's Cry, Reboot, The Red Angel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-19 06:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22172938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefallenmutineer/pseuds/thefallenmutineer
Summary: Set just post just 1 x 4.The Red Angel is forced into play when Burnham is framed, assaulted and left for dead mere days after being assigned onto the new science vessel, Discovery under Captain Lorca's scheming. With Burnham compromised, how different would their future be...
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	1. Game, Set.....

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I've finally gotten back to this. Now first thing is first, this is a REBOOT of the story of the same name. 
> 
> I felt I could write much better and i know I can. I've got a final plot going for me than before, so I know what direction to take it in and how long it'll be (roughly)

_Tap, tap, tap…_ her fingers touched lightly over the glass touch-screen though her eyes strained in once again which blurred the text every so often and there was a mild ache that pulled down her neck to her mid-spine; settling between her shoulder blades as a new and constant reminder of bad-posture in combination to over-working.

Beside her, Ripper groaned out pitifully, each of its sounds sending a welt of guilt into her stomach. Guilt that _she_ was the reason it had been used over the last week; guilt that it was hurting, guilt that it wasn’t able to talk to them; making it’s vulnerability seem greater now. It didn’t seem to matter that they were _finally_ doing their part against the Klingons, it shouldn’t cost the creature; they needed an alternative route.

Michael knew better than to go to Stamets empty handed, so she was doing her own side-research. Another creature would have to do… using its DNA of course but the match was hard to find… the necessary requirements were very specific….

“Ugh, why is the _only_ viable option the _illegal_ one?” She muttered to herself, saving her work before Michael allowed herself to sit back, fingers pressing against her closed eyelids, the wash of fresh tears a relief just as much as the pressure though it didn’t stop the light imprint of her screen to dance against her eyelids.

 _“Michael Burnham, to Engineering.”_ The computerised voice spoke.

Michael huffed out heavily. “Acknowledged.” She had to go. See what Stamets wanted of her now. Even though, given the time, she was close to finishing her shift… Downtime then sleep was all call for.

Forcing herself away, Michael closed down her monitor and slipped the chip in her pocket, lazily following the route away and into the turbo lift.

But as soon as she stepped out at the designated deck, the calm and tired atmosphere immediately seemed to _shift_. Eyes looking to her, some sharp and glaring with a fresh heat while some looked away and carried on with their work but the gut feeling of dread settled into her lower stomach.

Swallowing, Michael stepped quickly until she reached her destination until it got a whole lot _worse_.

The spore room was otherwise a mess. The spore reaction cube was shattered and scotched with glass that spread everywhere, from floor to the stairs as if it had been shattered out with an impulse grenade, stations were damaged and one was at an odd angle, the main console that had a huge burn mark spread down the front and the spore containers were all empty and destroyed; spore reside glittering over the surfaces like glitter; no longer contained but decaying and losing it’s float.

But the worst was the three awaiting people that made ice forge into her stomach. Paul Stamets, who she had finally started to earn his trust was now staring at her coldly, a PADD in hand and jaw immediately clenching, Saru who hovered close to Paul but his threat ganglia was extended out with a hint of nervousness in his posture but his face was stiff with an unreadable gaze.

But it was Lorca that topped it off. His face was crafted to a calm expression but the captain’s posture was tense, radiating out the silent waves of anger that shone immediately in his blue eyes as he looked on her. His chest swelling but he kept it contained, lines deepening as his eyes narrowed and he stepped forwards.

Her steps hesitated on the last, looking at the three, then Airiam who was running assessments in the background with Tilly but her presence did little to draw from the obvious _burning_ looks directed at her.

“What’s…going on?” Her throat felt immediately dry in asking.

“ _Really_ , feigning ignorance now?” Stamets snapped, anger seeping into his voice but Lorca held up his hand, halting any further argument he could spit at her.

Michael’s jaw clutched but she couldn’t help but give Saru a questioning look. What did they think she did? Her eyes flickered around again, the realisation hitting her like a sledge hammer. “I didn’t _do_ this, sir.” She hadn’t been in here today given her more recent works with the Tardigrade.

Lorca again said nothing but took the PADD from Stamets and flicked it around. On the screen, her eyes watched in horror as the cameras flickered up a security feed.

The screen showed the inside of the Engineering room, intact and empty; a rare time of it before the doors opened. On it, the screen showed…her, with a mark for phaser rifle before shots were fired, shooting at the stations, the glass; the cube too strong to take too much damage until her feed-self fiddled with the weapon and dropped it inside then walked out, the feed continuing until the rifle suddenly exploded; shattering out the glass in a concussive force….

It almost left her breathless but it was clearly enough evidence clearly incriminated her, a part of her knew that she couldn’t blame them for the logical conclusion… but she knew herself; she didn’t do this. This was forged; to who and why… she couldn’t fathom but they had everything they’d need to send her packing.

“Sir—“

“I invited you on my ship, to be one of my crew to help stop this war and onto one of my top-secret projects,” Lorca started, anger lacking the undertone of his voice as he spoke. “I didn’t expect this. Certainly not from you.”

“I can explain.”

“Can you?” His eyebrow rose sharply. “Then, Burnham, prey tell me _why_ you had to blow up our spore drive?”

Michael inhaled shallowly, shaking her head. “That wasn’t me.”

Stamets scoffed but was once again refrained from a comment.

“Now I’ll have to explain to Admiral Cornwell to why we’re no longer able to part-take our role in the war.” Lorca continued, shaking his head in displeasure that was clearly written over his face. “In the meantime, you’ll be escorted back to your quarters and confined there until further notice, effectively immediately. Your privileges are being revoked as we speak and if you step out of line again, you _will_ be moved into the brig for as long as this war is on.”

With a gesture, she heard two officers move towards her but she nodded swiftly and began to move; not needing their ‘assistance’. The feeling didn’t quite disappear as they lefts but the intensity lowered the moment the engineering room doors closed…

Michael didn’t quite registered the walk down to the turbo lift, but the reality did seem to return as soon as she found herself on the other side of the door of her quarters. She could feel her heart beat thumping more upbeat in her chest, the feeling of her lungs oddly constricted but her eyes felt dry. She wasn’t upset. No.

Shocked, yes. Surprised at the turn of events, most certainly. Upset? No. There was no logic to be _upset_ ; she hadn’t done it. Being accused of it was not upsetting. Michael couldn’t deny the feel of hurt that Lorca and Saru were quick to jump onto the same band-wagon here and believe without second guessing the evidence. Stamets, no, she could understand his aggression on the matter. It was, after all, his life’s work that got shot up; the finger pointed to her. It was logical he’d vent such a frustrations at the source he believed in.

 _Tilly_? Michael had her doubts that _she’d_ believe her doing this. Camera footage could be forged with those with exemplary skills. Tilly had been too far focused on cleaning up, Michael hadn’t been able to see her reaction of the whole thing… but Michael hoped; she could talk to her when her shift was over.

* * *

Michael sat a while at her bed, leaning onto her elbows but no one came for a while. Apart from a security officer who attached a bracelet to her wrist and left without saying anything though she knew it was monitoring what she’d do; from vital signs to location. Ensuring her location and that it was on her persons at all time.

Michael sucked in a deep breath, eying the bracelet again before she rose to her feet, heading towards her desk for her PADD. She needed a plan of action. Someone would find something…. They had to. Lorca would have evidence that she had been in her designated space, looking after the Tardigrade… Not to mention, she passed lots of the crew on her way down; a different sector of the ship.

She had to utilise her assets. As limited as they were… Tilly, now was her greatest asset she had to get those statements. Eye-witness accounts vs computer footage, it’d certainly draw more questions than answers… enough to take a step back from the whole thing.

On the PADD, Michael began her break down of her day. The computer rejecting a few of her requests—not that she was too surprised. Her privileges were limited now; she didn’t know _what_ she had access to now. Perhaps something to inquire?

* * *

The door opened suddenly.

Michael felt a deep surge of relief to see Tilly return. Her friend’s face was pale though she looked otherwise just as relieved to see her.

“Are you okay? I mean, well… I know you didn’t do this and… well I don’t see why after you worked so hard and—“

“Tilly.” A small smile forming on her lips. Michael nodded to her own desk chair to sit. “I didn’t do it.”

“But the others won’t—“

“I know what the others think and I know they’re willing to believe the footage.”

Tilly nodded slowly, unzipping her uniform jacket as she strode towards her with a firm calculating look. “It does seem odd… if I was to shoot out the lab, I’d disable the cameras. First.” She added, sinking into the chair with a heavy sigh.

The mutineer’s head bobbed in agreement. “Who did this was purposeful to expose me as the culprit. Now, problem for another day.” Between her fingers, Michael held out the PADD to Tilly. “We both know that footage is fake, so….I may need to rely on your abilities to leave this room and talk to people.”

Tilly’s blue eyes looked to her sharply, worry and self-doubt lacing behind those ocean eyes with a hint of confusion but Michael was confident.

“I know you’re still getting to know this crew but while you do have your awkward moments, I know with a task you’ll delve right in.”

After a moment, Tilly took the PADD, flicking on the screen though gave a puzzled expression at what she was seeing.

“I hope you’re not asking me to stalk these people.”

Michael rolled her eyes and shook her head at her. “No. I know a few of the crew I passed on the way down to the lower decks where the tardigrade is. I don’t have access to the security footage anymore but anyone with a statement that I was elsewhere, say walking down a corridor so it _would_ bring up questions…”

Tilly’s eyes widened, clicking with what she meant before her eyes returned to the screen, looking back at the PADD with much more interest. “I see.” The wheels already starting to turn in her head

“I know it’s a lot to ask, Tilly but I do appreciate this.” At first meeting, she had doubted the cadet when she first came on board; but now she was _here_ ; to be _and_ have a friend was…warming. After six months in prison, isolation was easy and expected. She hadn’t expected to stay and Tilly was too stubborn to let her fade out her life so easily. Tilly, now, was like a life line; keeping her from being alone in the world.

A small curl tugged the corner of the Cadet’s lips though she nodded brightly. “I’ll make a start.”

Michael grabbed her elbow quickly as the redhead jumped to her feet with a new vigour, “It’s okay. It’s the end of your shift. You can do it tomorrow.”

Tilly gave her a look. “I know but now’s probably when their memories are freshest.” Not waiting for a debate, the cadet slipped from her grip and hurried from their quarters. Michael’s eyes watched as she felt. Feeling lighter than she had all day. Tilly would find something.

Eventually.

* * *

The next day, Michael spent most of her morning at her desk. Working through her PADD on her predicament and continuing more of the tardigrade research, a bit a little by memory but she had a fair enough to continue.

As her fingers tapped lightly over the screen, Michael airily picked up the last crust of her toast and brought it to her mouth, vaguely hearing the soft crunch nor really noticing the taste, a deep frown denting between her eyebrows as she read through Tilly’s latest report of the data she had collected. Only one person had seen her, or at least remembered seeing her head towards the turbo lifts. One hour _before_ the supposed attack on the Spore drive. An unviable time for her defence. Too long between.

“Ugh…” Crumbs spewed a little over the screen. Wiping them away. Michael swallowed down thickly and sat back, crushing off more crumbs. “Damn it…”

_Ding._

Her eyes flickered towards the door. “Come.”

The doors opened up, revealing Saru’s tall frame on the other side before he stepped inside. His posture was stiff and expression much…calmer than yesterdays but it was clear to see he was not on her side of this. She had hoped but…

“Commander Saru.” Michael rose from her desk, shutting off the PADD and stood in a formal attention-stance. 

Saru looked at her sharply though straightened himself up. “Captain Lorca has talked to Admiral Cornwell on the…recent events. Stamets has also concluded the damage isn’t irreparable so we’re not going to be sitting out the war longer than necessary. But it’s been decided that you’ll be removed from active duty on Discovery.”

Her stomach sank. “I understand.”

“We’re still investigating the incident but it’ll take at least a week for us to compile and look through the data. If you’re found guilty, you’ll be returned to a prison facility for the remainder of the war.”

“If I’m innocent?”

Saru’s lips pursed a fraction, “Then you’ll be reinstated back to your prior jobs on this ship.”

Michael nodded. “I understand.” She didn’t expect anything less. It wouldn’t stop others being cautious nor suspicious. Those seeds had been planted and now further tended. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

“Granted.” His tone masking the edges of hesitance.

“Do you really think I’m capable of doing _this_?”

Saru frowned though he looked uncertain of a response. Silence lasting the moment but the moment spoke more words than his posture.

Her eyes lowered, swallowing thickly. “I see.” She moved away. “I shouldn’t be surprised…”

“It’s much more complicated than a yes or no, Burnham.”

Michael’s gaze returned to the Kelpien. “ _How_? You _know_ me, Saru. We’ve worked together for seven years.”

“I didn’t think you were capable of _mutiny_ , Burnham.”

Her jaw snapped shut at his response.

Saru’s face flushed, tone now harder. He stepped forwards with confidence of the moral high-ground. “I may not agree with you, nor Lorca… but our history is irrelevent to _this_ situation. I didn’t think you were capable of mutiny against our former captain, I cannot allow another misjudgement on my part.” He inhaled deeply shaking his head. “I have to protect my crew and my captain. Whether from the Klingons or from you. Right now… I have to do my duty as first officer. I may not have had the honour of learning from Captain Georgiou but I’ve learned from Lorca.”

“Saru—”

Saur shook his head. “I don’t want to hear anything from you, Burnham. I just came to inform you of the situation. I know you’ve dragged Cadet Tilly into this, so she’s been removed from getting involved. Anything she’s gathered has been taken as evidence and has been reassigned a new bunk until further notice. She’ll be around to collect her things later.” He straightened himself up, eyes Stoney as they bore into her. “You’ll be updated when appropriate.”

With that, he was quick to turn and walk away.

His words echoed in her mind, clenching around her throat and weighing down her chest like someone was gripping at her lungs…


	2. ...Match

Michal stared up at the ceiling.

It had been a few hours since Tilly had to take her things and leave, sparing her an apologetic look but Michael wasn’t upset. In the long run, there was a chance of her seeing her again. She didn’t put it past the cadet to find a reason to come back, even if it was for a minute or so—Michael had seen the conveniently forgotten bed spread stuffed under the desk or the snow globe under her bed in the corner... 

Though Saru’s words echoed, his stance of posture was…depressing, she hoped he’s see soon enough. He had a point, one that she couldn’t help but mull on. Seven years of working together then she made a mistake; costing her not just her ship and her captain but her trust in the remaining Shenzhou crew. Saru. Detmer… there were even a few lieutenants in engineering she recognised. It just…ached like the loss of everything else.

After a moment, Michael sighed and sat up, hunger pining through her stomach though she knew to expect someone to bring something sometime soon. Rising to her feet, Michael stepped towards Tilly’s bed then sat, looking at her own bed. Her Alice in wonderland book still sat at the end of her bed, untouched for now….

She should probably read it to pass the time again… it felt just like a reminder to her current existence. Locked in her room. Why hadn’t Lorca just taken her to the Brig? She was, after all, still a prisoner; just dressed up in their uniform now.

 _Ding_.

“Come.” Michael’s eyebrows rose in surprise as she saw who was on the other side, a tray in hand and expression more or less fixed by the firm plastic of her facial augments. Airiam, she wasn’t too familiar with but she knew she worked on the bridge, running the spore drive from up there but _her_ , _here_?

“I wasn’t expecting you.”

The woman’s lip curled a fraction though she walked in as if invited. “I was passing both the mess and this deck, I also wanted you to have look through this.” Nodding downwards

On the tray, Michael spotted a small data chip ticked away under her napkin beside the glass of water. Michael took the tray though couldn’t help but give the augmented woman a puzzled look, plucking it from its hiding space as she placed the tray onto her bed, turning it over in her hands.

“What is it?”

“Since the drive’s destruction, some software was corrupted. It seemed…a waste of your skills just sitting here.” Airiam responded.

Michael shook her head, holding it back out to her. “I can’t. Lieutenant Stamets has an axe to grind with me on the whole thing, taking this only incriminates me further.”

“I’ve already talked to him, he said its fine.” Airiam answered.

Michael pursed her lips, fiddling with the blue chip in her fingers. It seemed unlikely but… Airiam was a senior officer over Stamets. “Fine. I’ll look over it later.”

“I’ll come by and pick it up tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll take it as a sign of you innocents.”

“Hm, _that’s_ still in heavy debate.”

Airiam chuckled though walked away without any further statement.

Michael eyed her warily as she left though a welt of…discomfort settled in her stomach before the shuts slid shut. 

* * *

The feeling didn’t go, only managing to eat part of her meal. She stripped down to her PJs for the night and picked up her book though as the minutes ticked by, the chip seemed to crop much more into her mind as she read the passages. The feeling like she was missing something… important. it made her feel on edge. Maybe Airiam was right, if she didn’t look into it, Stamets would be…annoyed further.

Marking her place, Michael rolled off the bed and grabbed the chip, fiddling with it again in her fingers. She couldn’t help the moment of debate… this didn’t feel right… but obligation to try and repair the damage that marred her new reputation…

With a soft click, the chip slotted into her projector and she pressed down on the button, allowing it to appear above her desk. Code upon code flickering up before it stopped and stayed there innocently.

Her eyes narrowed, getting back to the top sequence of codes though she felt puzzled to what she was seeing. None of this code was…familiar. Not like the one Stamets have her do… in fact it didn’t look like any code that was part of the spore drive at all. Why would Airiam give this to her?

Michael waved the next page across. It was the same. So was the next page. “What the hell is this?” She muttered, shaking her head before she unplugged the chip. Perhaps it was the wrong one Airiam meant to give her?

Unplugging it, Michael tossed the chip into her desk. She could ask her tomorrow. Sleep on it….

* * *

Her pulse danced in her veins… a familiar sense of fear that usually accompanied bad dreams… but Michael cold feel the weight of her body… the sense of not just fear but anticipation… her mind hazy though it took a moment to realise… she hadn’t been dreaming.

Her eyes flickered open though her eyes locked onto a red light in her room before instinct suddenly drove her to move; rolling away; a flash of red streaking before the stench of burning rose in the dark.

“Computer, Lights!”

Immediately her room was alight that almost threw her off. But standing on the other side of her bed was the Lieutenant Commander, her synthetic eyes turning from blue to red.

“Airiam?!”

But in her hands, the phaser was raised before she fired. Michael dove forwards, hearing the hiss of metal but she didn’t swell on it. Ducking around, she heard several more _thunks_ and _hisses_ behind her but she had to get the gun away from her. Grabbing her book, Michael flung it at Airiam. Aim true as it surprised her, thumping against the side of her plastic face, taking the moment to slam her hand into the woman’s gut.

Almost immediately, she felt the regret; her hand punching into a mixture of both soft and hard places that flared a sharp pain down her knuckles but her other hand in the same motion stuck the woman’s wrist; enough to have the weapon loosen in her grip. A low blow struck down her back, the reality speeding up but Michael twisted around and—

“Ahh—“

Michael fell forwards, a sharp pain briefly resonating down her hip but she flung her hand up, blocking the next blow but her own barely phased Airiam. She pushed back against her, sparing a few meters of space between them

“What the hell are you _doing_?!” Michael demanded, darting to the door but it didn’t open. Her hand slammed against the button but again, nothing happened… it filled her with a second of dread; she was locked in.

“Computer!” Michael ducked under Airiam’s arm, “Computer, emergency transport to the brig!” Though she hissed as she felt a solid grip to her shirt before being pulled back… gold suddenly engulfing her vision….

Michael’s heart thumped wildly in her chest, scrambling forwards as soon as the golden light cleared enough to get away from the woman’s grip… but to her disbelief; they hadn’t ended up where she had ordered. It was the science lab. No security, no shield and no way to protect herself or contain Airiam….

Shit.

In a twist, she kicked the woman away, glad to see the phaser fling from her hands and away; scrapping along the floor

Michael dove towards the benches, grabbing the nearest object—a microscope—and flung it at her. Airiam dodged it with ease and came at her again, throwing a hardened fist into her gut. Immediately, Michael was sent back sprawling back. A wave of nausea threating to arise. Swallowing it down, Michael was just able to swerve a kick before grabbing Airiam’s and swung herself up, pulling the woman down for leverage and let go, jumping away for space.

The vigorous amount of activity, she could feel its toll in her body, feel it in her blood… but Airiam, she seemed almost unstoppable as she got up again, seemingly unhampered. Her eyes flashing with the same red dots but she looked like she was firmly on a mission. One that did not look so good with her…

“Airiam… Please you _have_ to stop!” Michael begged softly, moving as Airiam advanced; for the space for a moment to _breathe_ , her stomach reeling of her punch with vivid _aching_ …

The cybernetic augmented woman didn’t answer, instead Michael stooped again, blocking the next fist but the woman’s strength was easily overpowering; putting _her_ at the disadvantage….

Michael fist cracked against Airiam’s head, pain ringing down her knuckles again.

“ _Ah_.” Damn plastic head. Michael did it again, pushing her body weight into it; enough to send the woman back until she felt the solid boot crack hard against her hip. The force sent her back, her heel catching the edge of a work bench before she found herself falling back against the floor. Her back cracking hard that she almost felt winded.

A soft grunt passed her lips. Michael barely had a chance to move, rolling onto her front and threw herself up to her feet—before a grip yanked her back by her ankle; the metal floor swiftly coming to meet her halfway.

“—ooff..” The air almost knocking out of her but she scrambled nonetheless to get back—a sudden hand saddening grabbing hold of her hair and yanked her right back. Her spine bending awkwardly back; the muscles in her abdomen stretching and she could feel a resistance as her spine curved; her head forced back though her hands came to claw at Airiam’s; digging in to relieve the painful grip—she could feel a few hairs sharply yank from her scalp.

“S—Stop!”

Then suddenly the momentum changed, instead of backwards, Michael suddenly found herself being yanked suddenly to the side; her body twisting with the awkward movement though just in time to see the work bench’s cabinet get suddenly closer before she felt her head slam into it.

Immediately, she saw stars, pain radiation down the side of her head that clouded out the world in a white-hot flash… darkness tinkering in the edges of her vision…. Then she felt the flicker of awareness as she was yanked away again, the movement spinning her head with another wave of nausea…. Then her head was once again and again, slammed against the cabinet and she felt into immediate darkness on the third blow.

Pain stabbed down her face… that was the first thing Michael was aware of, then the cold surface that was wet with a cooling liquid that she could feel; sharp stabbing pains was more intense around her eye and cheekbones… she couldn’t open it. Then she came aware of where she was lying; on her front still… a corner edge pressing against the back of her skull and she could hear movement.

Her head span and despite that, the reminder of _danger_ suddenly arouse her to move… her head rose; the pain suddenly increasing tenfold as the pressure disappeared; she could feel the side of her face was swollen… her eye she could feel had swollen shut and she could feel the blood now as it dripped but none of that mattered. Her hands shook, unable to help the gasp of pain as she pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, just about looking around to see Airiam…

She was a few feet away now, a phaser in hand. Its setting’s a very obvious red.

_Set to Kill._

“N…” Michael slipped onto her side. “No...” her heart picking up in her chest. She couldn’t have been out for more than a few seconds at least… “You… you don’t wanna do this...” Her voice was hoarse and she could hear her words slur, her heels digging into the floor, trying to push herself back as Airiam moved forwards, phaser raised. “Please...”

Her hand came up, the other supporting her body as she tried to crawl back though her head made it feel like she was on a rocking boat as she tried to focus.

“Good bye.”

Michael barely had a chance to hear the computerised response that left the woman’s lips before she saw a red flash—a burning sensation that suddenly ran down her shoulder before the darkness swallowed her in an instant.

* * *

Sarek gasped sharply from his mediation. A ghost of pain suddenly ripping under his skin… over his face cheek and spread up; his eye stung but the worst of it was his chest… just where his clavicle met the acromion and humerus joint. Like it was burning through all the muscles and veins to the scapula…

But he could only feel, minutes later, the connection from his katra to the part that lived within Michael’s that seem to snap away and back so suddenly it flared agony through his mind, ripping almost through his mental shields. Barely aware that he had fallen from his stance, the smell of incense spreading nor the clatter as the meditation lamp hit the floor but he grunted softly, clenching his teeth together; trying to reel the pain back in; lock it down as all his training required…

“Sarek!” The note of alarm rang in his’s wife’s voice; the clatter unusual, enough to draw her from her doze but Sarek’s couldn’t answer… The pain was there, always but the connection; he couldn’t find the edges of her mind…

Logically, he knew she was gone. A sudden death was not kind. There was nothing. He had been accustomed to block the emotional connections than allow them to hinder his daily mind from her. So many years now since he had placed it within her for her survival it was only natural. It kept his mind focused than to be drawn into human emotions, stopped her from reeling in his. More so when his ‘Time’ hit. He protected her from those feelings because he _had_ to. Her feelings were powerful enough when faced with certain death...consumed on her fate without thinking of the possibilities, pulling him into it. The cost of that meld was necessary and she lived.

Now, he couldn’t feel anything… the connection was gone; reeling his mind with the full onslaught of unbridled and unexpected after-effects.

“She’s dead…” Words squeezed through the pain. “Michael… discovery…” Urgent as he spoke; her death was not natural. Murdered. Pain raged war against him…before he felt the darkness swallow him away.

* * *

Michael’s body lay on the floor… blood pooling under her. The light dim and the quiet pressed around, undisturbed… until a low red light sparked.

First the size of a pea, the light grew and stretched until the space was almost ablaze with a burning red glow… pouring around to every wall and surface until…. a new _thung_ rang and a figure descended from the red light; mechanical wings spread, billowing around the figure like some angelic being. A pulse suddenly resonating out before its hand rose; sending an fast, read beam into Michael’s chest. Her body arching up as energy forced into her chest; shocking an immediate reaction straight into her heart.

Michael reacted, a sharp grunt leaving her lips; her heart being forced into immediate action…her lungs responding to the pressure sucking in air immediately but the figure moved from hovering, the beam connecting her by the light barely holding her back as she moved quickly and urgently, siding her hands under her and picked her up in her arms. Her body limp but breathing…

The light vanishing; leaving the room almost exactly before. This time, without Michael….

* * *

Lorca stared at the PADD screen. Early morning need to sleep clawing at his eyes, to go back to bed but now duty of being the captain was immediate to the new situation that had been thrust upon them twenty minutes ago.

His chest tight and constricted as the security footage played on the PADD screen. Burnham in her PJs, clear indication her transport had been in the middle of the night but it twisted his gut to see her false opponent; fighting for pure sake of survival. Played from the moment Burnham had transported into the science lab and on….

 _The other getting the upper hand, Burnham fell—_ he couldn’t help the wince as her head was repeatedly slammed into the work-top cupboard— _blood coming to quickly decorate the metal side with each blow and she fell still_ — _the woman moving away and leaving Burnham lying there and walked out of the frame but only returned about ten seconds later; a new weapon in hand._

_“N…”Her voice was barely audible, slurring the words “No...” though she seemed to come around more, the side of her face bloodied and bruised with obvious signs of quick swelling of something broken. “You… you don’t wanna do this...” As vain as it was, Burnham attempted to try and crawl away. “Please...”_

Lorca didn’t hear a reply but he watched on.

_A red beam firing from the weapon, hitting Burnham in the chest towards her shoulder but she immediately fell with a grunt, the figure of Ellen Landry standing over her for a second then walked away…_

The recording stopped but he felt sick, and _furious_. He knew, as anyone else did that Landry had been dead for the last week. It wasn’t possible for her to have attacked and killed Burnham… but the skill and likeness was…impressive. If she hadn’t had such a perfect alibi, then he would easily believe that she had done this.

Which now brought up new light on the whole drive destruction. Burnham had not fired upon the spore drive if her innocents was to be believed with this technological skill in masking their appearance on footage. Burnham would have been able to identify her attacker…but it didn’t seem…irrelevant on the two incidences.

“I’ve received word that…Ambassador Sarek is in a healing trance. His wife shared the news he and Burnham shared his Katra after some…scepticism to check on Burnham. Her death…” Saru’s tone wavered as he spoke, “her death caused some…discomforts on his behalf. We’re not privy to any more details. The Ambassador has not yet woken up.” The Kelpien’s head hung though eyes were ahead to the scene in front of them. Secured, the team inside was searching the lab for any sort of sort of DNA or evidence of who the attacker was. It was fresh so they had to have something soon.

“Commander Saru, I want you to run though the crew manifest on technological skills.” Lorca stared gruffly, “Rule out those who don’t have the skills and rank to hack into security, transport and weapons training and questions those that do.” While there were a few on this ship that had an axe to grind with Burnham, he’d not allow them to escape justice.

They had no idea what they had cost _him_ … Burnham had been too important to let go, even after the drive incident—he needed her. Whether in the brig or confided to quarters, under his thumb was her place for his plans. What they could have had if he had made it back home with her…. It was all gone. He couldn’t go back empty handed.

“Captain…”

Lorca’s attention returned to his first officer. “What?”

“Is there any more on what happened to…her body?” Saru, while hesitant to ask, his turquoise eyes stared to the PADD. Lorca’s gaze returned to the lab—Burnham’s body hadn’t been here when they nor security had discovered the room nor Burnham’s quarters which had also been sealed shut. Clearly not a good attempt to clean up after murdering someone. 

Though, he had his doubts this ‘Landry’ double would have done more than risk getting caught staying on the scene or moving a body to an airlock. On the screen, he pulled up the clip and allowed it to continue.

_For an entire minute, Burnham’s body remained unmoving; the blood pooling much more obviously under her… then the screen’s light shifted, a red tinge appearing as if the lights in the lab were being drowned out… then suddenly they had glimpse of a figure appearing from the light before—the clip ended abruptly._

“What the hell was that?” his finger touching over the screen, replaying it but nothing he could see in front of him suggested anything but… it wasn’t normal. Whatever it was, it came with intent and very _specific_.

What could break into a Starfleet vessel before _anyone_ knew of anything of Burnham’s death and take her without triggering any of their alarms? This easily clearly more than a ship-wide event…

“Excuse me.” He had to talk to Cornwell. He had to keep an open mind; this technology was clearly superior; something they had to worry about; not just the Klingons now. “Secure the crime scene and collect anything you can. I’ll be in my ready room.”

He didn’t wait for a response.

In his ready room, Lorca almost groaned to see his terminal lit up with a numerous amount of messages. Starfleet commend, Cornwell, Ambassador’s wife… He placed the PADD to the side, closing up his uniform jacket from the rush this morning.

“Admiral Cornwell.” He spoke, allowing picking up her transmission.

After a moment, the admiral in question appeared, her hologram flickering though wore an immediate expression of displeasure.

“What is this I hear, Captain Lorca?” She demanded. “ _Homicide_ on your ship. Michael Burnham, of all people”

“I see news travels fast.” He dryly remarked. “I’ve currently got the ship on lockdown, no ones coming or leaving and our staff are already gathering all data we need for our investigations.”

“Good. I want it dealt with as soon as possible. Command won’t be pleased to hear that Starfleet’s _first_ and _only_ mutineer to date was murdered on your watch, Gabriel.” Cornwell stressed, moving with obvious agitation. “Not to mention, it does little for moral that we’re killing each other.”

“I understand, Admiral. I will be through but…there are unforeseen and…questionable elements.”

“Such as?” Sighing softly, he plugged the PADD into the terminal, sending her the entire footage. Her hologram moved, bending down to a surface he couldn’t see; holding her PADD in her hands as the hologram glitched.

“We have the footage but the woman attacking Burnham, Commander Landry’s been dead for the last week.” He explained, watching as the admiral watched the recording; the way her expression changed as the fatal shot was fired. “Keep going…”

Her eyes rose sharply as the clip ended. “I see.”

“It’ll take some time but I can wager they’re not unrelated.”

Cornwell nodded tightly, her lips pursing. “Sarek’s wife has been heavily involved to talk to you, or someone with authority to get answers. Burnham’s body, or lack thereof will cause some issues.”

“Something to worry about another time, Admiral. Let me take charge of this and I’ll hopefully have something for you all”

“Be sure that you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehe i know i may have spoiled a little by revealing the attacker but what we know vs what the crew knows is quite enjoyable.
> 
> I know it might feel... a little fast paced but I didn't want to write the parts that weren't strictly necessary, like Lorca bing called down to the scene but it's nessessary to keep to a pace. it'll be important later on and I don't want it to be dragged out when it doesn't need to be.
> 
> That said, I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)


	3. The Red Angel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i had hoped for a little more response to the reboot. I feel it's flowing much better and I'd love to hear your thoughts on the matter still.   
> Please drop some comments down at the end on what you think and stuff :) I'd really appreciate it because it really helps my muse with this fic.

It was the dull smell that roused the spark of awareness from the deep dark pits of blissful unawareness. Like a weight of being held down at the bottom of the ocean and floating free in zero-g. The smell was sharp and familiar…acting like a hook that was pulling her up from the deep and awakening new senses.

One that her body felt like a weight…. Too sluggish to identify much passed the fact she realised she was lying down and heat across one of her sides and the other was cool… but something felt wrong… What was wrong?

Michael could feel her lungs return as to the immediate dry ache that ran down her throat and straight into her lungs that made her cough out.

Suddenly around her she head movement… a low _thung_ as if something had been dropped before she felt something grasp at her shoulder. “Michael…”

The sound was loud. Ringing in her skull that made Michael groaned out, her throat searing before she heard the voice speak before the grip was gone….

Everything was dark... she could feel her arm but not the other one. Why not? Michael tried to open her eyes… darkness still pressed in all around her. Panic suddenly set in… why couldn’t she see?

“It’s okay, you’re blindfolded, just take a breath.” The voice returned somewhere to her side but she couldn’t help her hand shoot out, immediately grasping onto some material and under that, she felt the soft squishiness of flesh… her mind could identify the tone that the voice was female and familiar but everything was wrong..

A set of hands gently priced her fingers away then something cool and bowl-like was pressed into her palm.

“It’s water, take a sip and you’ll feel better.”

Michael felt the hand press her arm back towards her…then the rim of the bowl pressed against her chest. She could feel her hands shake but she brought it to her lips. The water was immediately welcomed as it washed down, tasting brilliant and started to hydrate the ache away in almost an instant. Pure and utter relief she hadn’t realised. She lapped at the water, drinking it down greedily until she felt the last drip. The water felt so good… she could feel much more of her mind sharpen…

The bowl was taken from her hand, returning her focus to what was around her.

“Wha…what’s going on?” Her voice still hoarse as she spoke but clear enough to speak. “Why… why am I blind folded…Who are you?” Why was the voice familiar? Michel didn’t voice that question out loud. She could feel it was more than just blindfolded, it was too tight to be a single cloth but something had been wound around her head tightly.

The woman in front (at least Michael thought she was in front) sighed heavily. “You were attacked and injured about four and a half weeks ago in our time. I resuscitated you and brought you to a medical facility. After that I have you moved to here, my home. Your implants are now fully functional but I…thought it’s be best to edge you into them given the side effects of the implants in your brain.”

The more the woman spoke, the more it felt like ice was forging in her stomach. Attack. Medical facility… implants… some of that made sense but she couldn’t remember a lot… everything was hazy. Like it was all a dream.

“Attack?” Her voice shook as she spoke. “I don’t… I don’t remember.”

“I know. But just take a deep breath and I’ll talk you through it….you injuries and then what was done.”

Michael inhaled deeply but nodded. She couldn’t find anything within her to complain with the woman’s reasoning. She could feel everything was overwhelming… that everything felt wrong was going to be explained, like why she couldn’t feel her other arm. She could feel her lungs expand as she took another breath… allowing the air to fully inflate, forcing her heart down from it’s current pace… it took a minute before she felt any calmer.

“What do you last remember?”

Michael’s head turned to the woman’s directions but she stayed quiet, rummaging back to her foggy memory…

She remembered the spore drive, the drive being damaged and being locked in her room. The faces of the crew as they looked at her, the way it made her _feel_ … it did not feel good. It almost made her feel queasy. Then… going to bed… no not straight to bed. Airiam gave her work to do _then_ she went to bed…

“Sleeping.” Michael answered back. “I… I had to go to bed. It was late and…I was in trouble for something. I don’t think I did it but… everyone seemed to think I did.”

There was a pause, as if there was a nod but Michael couldn’t tell. “Well… from what I can tell, dear, that you were attacked in your room. Your injuries were quite severe. You were hit with a phaser set to kill.”

Ice twisted discomforted, chilling her to the bone. She could feel the blood drain away, almost making her dizzy. “Wha…”

“I resuscitated you but the damage to your body was extensive. Your cells have been stabilised and your organs are fully functional but the shot…burned through a portion of your shoulder. The doctors had to…amputate the damages tissues to keep your health optimal.”

Michael swallowed, feeling the nausea that suddenly came with the realisation to the _why_. Why her arm felt numb. Her hand came to her side, inhaling shallowly as she felt the… _metallic_ surface where her shoulder should be…

“Remember, _breath_ , Michael…”

The mutineer shook her head, flaring a new sense of pain through her skull but she couldn’t breathe… her arm was gone. It was all gone… How did she even survive? A phaser set to kill did more than just burn holes in people... its energy pulses throughout the body to disrupt cell activity. It took more than restarting her heart to fix the problem.

“Michael, Michael...listen to me, you’re _alive_. You’re okay.” The voice continued, her tone smothered with heavy reassurance, her hands gripping onto her shoulder and arm, “You’re okay. Just…take a breath.”

“H...how?”

“That’s…a conversation for another time. Please, Michael just relax and breathe.”

The questions wanted the bubble up and burst out… her heart hammered and her head felt light…. Michael sucked in deeply, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out. Trying to recall Sarek’s lessons...

It took longer then she’d have liked to feel calmer but she didn’t feel any less unsettled. She felt another cup being pushed into her hands though she didn’t hesitate to bring it to her lips but she felt a little surprised to realise it was a soup-like broth, awakening a sense of ignored hunger now she had a taste.

Michael mulled as she drank it down carefully, feeling the gaze of the woman. It was familiar… she was familiar. Why? If she didn’t know any better, she would have thought she was her mother but… her mom died decades ago.

But her injuries… her death. She had still died… God, what was Tilly feeling? The discovery crew? Surely by now they would have realised she wasn’t the culprit if she died the next day.

“Why… why can’t I see?” She croaked up after a moment, licking her lips. “Am I blind?”

“No.” The tone was soft, a soft exhale following. “You…had severe facial trauma in your attack. It shattered bones from your socket…into the eyeball that ruptured it. There was mild brain damage in the result of internal bleeding. But the treatments and implants have remedied that. Your left eye is synthetic and there’s… sort of an external implant to the side of it. Somewhat like Lieutenant Detmer’s but much more advanced.”

Blindingly, Michael placed the bowl down, her hand coming to her face, feeling or trying to through the bandage to find the implant. She slipped her index under though she held her breath as she felt the small silver of warm metal that ran down the side of her head and curved down from just above the ear but stopped just behind her earlobe.

“It’s a highly advanced synthetic eye. The internal implant behind the socket allows you to…see further and in higher clarity. Perhaps even capable of recording your memories more digitally. I felt that… that option would be more ideal to explain to others through visuals than from word of mouth. Proof, even.” The voice carried on, lightening the more she spoke. “You do have an arm but as of the moment, I’ve kept it detached. Once you’re accustomed to your eye, then we can move on to the limb.”

Michael nodded but groaned softly as the movement seemed to shift the aching weight in her sinuses.

“Now, you’re still adjusting. I think it’ll be best for you to take a nap and process what you’ve learned… then I can take the bandages off—what are you doing?”

The voice stopping but Michael’s patience was thin, digging her fingers into the fabric, she began to pull the bandage away. “No, I _want_ to see.” She battered the hand way, the fabric’s tightness loosening from its snake-like grip. “If I’ve had a lot done to me… I _need_ to know. I deserves to know after what’s happened.” What she endured in her unconscious time… coma seemed to be the likely name. She had the right to know.

“Michael….” A hint of exasperation left the woman before she could pick up the sounds of the woman moving away… then the bandages were gone.

It was the cold that reached her first, tinging down the bald areas around the metal in her skin… but she felt the light press down against her eyelids but one… one felt brighter to process over the dimer burnt red of the blood pumping through her right eyelid. It took everything not to snap them open but she could feel too sudden would not end well…

The air was fresh against the exposed skin though she felt the heat, the smell coming back was burning wood, and cracking of it echoing around… indicating it was an enclosed area with a camp fire. Under her, she could feel the soft edges of blankets. Bulked out by a type of mattress.

Feeling confident, Michael carefully opened her eyes a fraction. Light streaming in and the immediate sight of the floor was the first thing she saw. It was cleaned stone, rags used as it’s carpet and rugs. There was some dirt and dust and a wooden bowl was resting beside her foot and a further empty one a few feet away.

Her eyes raised.

All around, it was clear to see it was a hut. Mostly constructed out of wood, leaves and a lot of material that not only acted as both dividers but also as curtains, flooring and bedding and a lot more. The hut was surprisingly big. A few curtains were closed from two sectors. The door was open, bringing in a light breeze though linin hangings stayed draped over it to keep any wildlife from entering, same to the windows.

In the centre of the hut was the fire. It had a frame above it, holding a large wok in its centre, bubbling the same smell of the broth she had minutes ago. Stacks of wood was beside, as well as leaves and other branches of kindling tied back. Make-shift furniture lay about, a far table with a lot of metal tools and equipment. A few boxes and cases that was clearly Starfleet brand and even a few power cells were stacked up on top. Clothes were about, either in piles or handing up.

But Michael’s gaze drifted to the woman. She stood with her back to her, position looking like she had her arms folded But it was clear to see the woman had dark, tightly curls hair like her own and even their skin was the same dark shade. Yet… it was _so_ familiar… Even the way her hair was tied down… It looked so like—

Michael stopped her mind from going there. She inhaled deeply before she turned her gaze downwards. The knot in her stomach tightened to see where her arm should have been…

Instead it was gone, realised with a clear, dark grey joint of the prosthetic limb though she could feel the bandages wrapped around that as over the top of her shoulder, or at least what was left; tight and restrictive yet a good pressure. It was no doubt more ‘recently’ put on before her move. She was still healing. If she put the joint on now, the skin, muscle and bone around the join would no doubt get irritated at the weight.

“Why…why was I moved?” Michael mused softly. “If I’m still healing, shouldn’t I still be _there_?”

The woman ahead shifted. “The…facility was hit by a rogue, dark matter asteroid. I got you out in time.”

“Just me?”

The woman bobbed her head. “I can’t save everyone, I…didn’t have the time.”

“But why _me_?” Michael questioned, shifting her weight slowly though her head spun as she tried to get up… the weight differences threw her off that the floor span to almost meet her. Her hand shot out automatically, digging into the floor as she caught herself though she almost felt a wave of nausea threaten to rise. She swallowed the feeling down, breathing heavily.

“Why… why did save me the first time? I’m not that special…” not really. Not with her history…what she had done and what it had cost her. What was her life really worth now? She should have stayed dead.

“No…that’s where you’re wrong.” A soft undertone laced the familiar voice, inhaling deeply before she moved.

Michael sighed, the feeling passing though she saw the woman’s shoe swim closer… then the arms coming out to help steady her. One hand gripping under her joint, the other to her shoulder… though Michael found herself turning her gaze up…

Then it felt like the air was knocked out of her lungs once again. Brown eyes that she never thought she’s see again, framed with the same dark lashes, face barely worn by time... The depth of emotion rage within those eyes were caution… tiredness and a fear that she remembered….

“Mom?”

Michael wanted to believe that this was false, that her mother wasn’t really here and this was a hallucination. It was be so easy to believe… her mind making up the one person she wanted to be with. If she was dead, then believing her mother was here wasn’t going to be so hard… But now, there were so many pieces in her puzzle that was missing…

Her throat thickened but she closed her eyes, shaking her head. “No… no you’re dead…. You died—you can’t be here.”

“I _am_ , baby girl. I survived.”

Her mother’s strength surprising, but Michael couldn’t—didn’t—fight the woman’s grip, falling more into her arms, against her chest though she didn’t hesitate to hook her arm around her… though she knew there was no familiar perfume, she knew her mother’s scent from all those times she had tried to get her to bed when thunderstorms woke her at night when she was so young… Her fingers curled into her shirt, but she feel was solid…and _warm_.

Heat built up though she could feel it more in her right eye as it spread through her face. It made her nose feel runny and her lungs felt tighter as the constriction around her throat tightened. Breathing in felt hard but she focused all her attention to just…feeling her mother in her arm. Warm and alive… but the how… Michael couldn’t fathom the how, just as much as she couldn’t fathom her own survival from being shot with a setting to _kill_. It had to be explainable.

“It’s okay to cry…” The words were softly spoken, arms wrapping around her tightly, assumingly even as one slipped up, cupping the back of her head softly, massaging into her scalp

With this assurance, Michael allowed the emotions to go… the tears spilling over… her fingers grasping once again into her shirt. Under her chin, she felt the pattern to her mother’s breathing shift, picking up a fraction in pace before she felt a hot splash down the side of her face…

* * *

It felt nice to be held... though Michel could feel the ache in her knees, she didn’t want to let go. Just relished in the moments to just…be in her mother’s arms again. Tears had stopped but that felt good. Good to cry. As illogical as it was and it didn’t make too much sense but it felt _good_ regardless…

Mom was alive. In front of her. The _how_ still alluded her but Michael sensed that was going to be explained very soon.

Her mother still stroked soft circles down her back, her chest breathing evenly though her heart beat thumped against her ears. A sound Michael listened to for a while.

Gabrielle Burnham sighed out heavily, loosening her arms to shift her. Michael’s head rose, moving back though she moved to sit back on the floor in front of her. Her mother seating herself much more comfortably in front, her hand reaching out for hers, wrapping around it tightly.

“It’s a complicated story… and a long one.” She started softly. “I survived the attack due to…technology me and your father were developing. Time travel, to be precise… but it was untested technology.”

A frown burrowed lightly between Michael’s eyebrows. Her eyes lingering on her mother’s face. “Something went wrong.” That was logical. Time travel did sound far-fetched; why would they even delve into that to start with?

“Yes.” Gabrielle nodded. “I meant to go back an hour, get you all out before the Klingons arrived but… I went forwards. _Too far_ … too far for me to return for good. I’m…tied to this time frame.”

“ _When_ are we?”

“From your time… about 930 years. Give or take a decade.”

Her eyes closed, shutting out her mother and the hut. Time travel…. Almost a thousand years in the future. “Why didn’t you…go to the federation for help? Surely they could get scientists to get you back, right?”

Gabrielle shook her head. “That’s… where thing get more complicated. Now, you still need to sleep, process this information before I can tell you more. I know you have questions, baby girl, but you’re still recovering.” Her hand moved, moving up to cup her cheek, the warmth radiating from her palm. “Please.”

More questions wanted to bubble and rise but Michael couldn’t find it in herself to argue with her mom. Her head did hurt and she felt exhausted about the whole thing.... Softly, her head bobbed. “Okay, Mom.” Her lips unable to stop curling up softly as she said the last word…

* * *

Lorca sighed heavily with a hint of frustration at the amount of PADDs, logs and flashing lights were all around him. From a few calls from the Ambassador to updated files from the crew. Three days since the whole murder incident and everything was getting fucked six ways from Sunday.

The drive wasn’t operational yet, the crew morale was getting low and there had been no new leads on Burnham’s death and who on this ship had killed her. Lorca knew by now, it had spread to the rest of top brass if those other calls had anything to say about it. It left him with a lot of work and not a lot of time to do it, especially given the war.

He had better things to do than all of this… had to find a new way back. His followers were counting on him and this was delaying it all. He had to get back. Even without Burnham; he had to find another way.

Ding.

His jaw clenched at the interruption though placed the PADD down. “Door.”

The two doors sprung open and Saru stepped on through, a PADD in hand and a data chip in the other.

“Captain Lorca.” Saur started, “There’s been a…development.”

Lorca snorted softly, dry at the remark. “Isn’t there always?” Though he shook his head, refraining from making another in his mood. “What’s come up now?” His blue eyes flickered down to the chip for a second.

“We had a team sort through Burnham’s belongings. We found all expected items and… this.” Saru placed the chip down. “We checked her PADD and projector logs that this chip was access 4 hours before her death.”

“What’s on it?”

“A virus. Used to disrupt the room’s occupants use of the computer internally. I believe her room was when the first attack started, given the state it was found in.” Saru spoke, his face neutral. “ _Emergency_ transport wasn’t fully disabled by the virus but it was disrupted enough to end up in a different location than intended. The Science lab.”

Lorca frowned at what he was saying. His fingers pulled the chip from the side, twirling it in his hand. A virus was not a small thing, nor so specifics. Someone had meant to kill her in her room… and given it was _before_ , it was fully premediated murder.

“Were you able to find anything of the creator?”

“No. We searched the code on a guaranteed system and broke it down but… whoever made it was incredibly skilled in masking their terminal, identify and when it was even created.”

“Did you run a full ship diagnostic?” Lorca pressed. If Burnham didn’t know what was on it and she plugged it in… a virus in their systems was bad news… on top of everything else.

“We did. All levels, from spore drive to warp to crew logs… We only found the fault in Burnham Quarters and purged it from our systems. We’ve taken scans for evidence only to use against the culprit.”

He sucked on his teeth and nodded as he stared down to the clear ship. “Someone _gave_ this to her. She wouldn’t have been able to get this given her confinement to quarters.”

“We’ve already got security looking into access logs and security footage.”

“Glad to hear it.”

One of the few things he knew Saru had was initiative. Mark of a good first office was to predict the Captain’s orders though Lorca watched Saru for a long moment. Saru had been quick to establish the search for Burnham’s killer, taking a little more lead in it than he would have thought anticipated. Maybe there had been more than what he thought was between the prisoner and Kelpien.

“Commander.” Lorca stared before Saru turned to the door, “You’ve taken quickly to search for answers on what happened to Burnham. More so than I expected… I was under the impression you have a…chilly relationship given the circumstances.”

Saru’s posture stiffened up a fraction though his brow pulled in for a long moment though he straightened down the front of his uniform. “We did…”

“Change of heart or guilt?” He himself could feel guilty on how it ended with Burnham… but by all evidence at the time his feelings had been justified and he followed protocol. He had done what he was supposed to with a suspect. Even if it was now a clearly isolation tactic. He had been played but he couldn’t afford that emotional distraction.

“I did not leave things on the best of terms with her. Given that I worked alongside her on the Shenzhou…” Saru trailed off

Lorca knew Saru was playing off his former relation as his excuse. It was guilt. He left things on an argument and he was trying to make up for it in the only way he can to alleviate those emotions for himself.

“Don’t allow your feelings to cloud your judgement, Commander. What’s been done and said is in the past. I don’t want you to burn yourself out on trying to remedy something you can’t change.”

“Yes…sir.”

Lorca eyed the Kelpien for a long moment. Choosing not to expand further, he moved to a different topic. “Has there been any development on the… red thing that took her body? I haven’t been able to identify anything of use”

“No, Sir but the team have identified tachyon radiation that saturated the room. It does…imply a numerous suggestions.”

Lorca nodded. He knew that. Time travel to by-products of technology such as transporters, cloaking and even weapons. He knew Time travel was impossible so it would easily be a type of transport to get both on the ship and off. Whatever had caused it, used a lot of energy… but he’d need to read those reports.

“Keep looking into it. I’ll need to update Command. Send me the reports as soon as they’re done. Dismissed.”

His hand reached for the bowel, fingers plucking out one of the curved fortune cookie though it only took a moment of pressure before it caved in between his fingers. The door closed though he felt a better sense of relief. They had something.

* * *

Admiral Cornwell frowned as she looked at the screen. Both caution and curiosity at what she was seeing to what she remembered. This didn’t seem like it was a coincidence.

“Where was this?”

“The Red burst appeared briefly months ago. At the USS Buran moment before it’s destruction then it was gone.” The voice revealed, his arms folded. “We weren’t sure what it was, nor where it came from but from our observations, it’s the same red light, radiation that was found on your feed from the Murder of Burnham. I read the report Lorca submitted an hour ago.”

“Tachyon radiation… same red light. I see your interest but I don’t think Section 31 should get involved with a war still going on. We need you to help us fight the Klingons. Not get involved in a light show and a murder investigation, Captain Leland.”

The hologram of the man chuckled, though it was far from amused. “I know that, Admiral and my operatives are doing their part. But this is important. Tachyons could easily be linked to time travel and the last thing Starfleet needs is another Temporal War on top of the Klingon one.”

Admiral Cornwell sighed. She did not refute the words the captain was saying. There was truth no doubt but their resources were stretching thin. Murder on a starship of the most notorious prisoner in the federation didn’t help.

“Okay, look into at a distance. Discovery is still running their assessments and I’ll keep you in the loop about their…discoveries. With a killer on that ship, we can’t have anyone go on or leave that ship.”

“I understand, Admiral. Leland out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, for now. I am keeping the old one up until i finish this. After I may decide to finish it in a divergent matter or keep it on hold.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it's more or less the same sort of chapter but I felt it was...better to redefine a few things, such as a phaser blast than a bat'leth since they're more accessible. it was a bat'leth before bc lorca has them in his man-cave that Burnham had access to.
> 
> now, please, drop your love and your comments on what you think so far....especially if i should delete the old version of this story or just..hoard it for mow


End file.
